Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Yemen and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Niagra,
F. McDonald,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cowsills,
Bad Manners,
Popol Vuh,
Unrelated Segments,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeff Mills,
Anthony Braxton,
Infiniti,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pagans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Drexciya,
The Happenings,
Jandek,
Con Funk Shun,
Fluxion,
Procol Harum,
OOIOO,
Spandau Ballet,
E-Dancer,
Severed Heads,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ronan,
Section 25,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ponytail,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Supertramp,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lou Christie,
Toni Rubio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Blake Baxter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Womack,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kenny Larkin,
Glenn Branca,
Frankie Knuckles,
EPMD,
The Walker Brothers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tres Demented,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Hood,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.